SUNSHINE

The light let itself down on the verdant fields and the surrounding loams. It gave the impression, so full of prowess it was, of the apparatus of a light bulb having broken free from its glass and now unhindered, unencumbered, and ubiquitous. The world that it shone on absorbed its bounty. There were long one lane highways offset by odd and old graveyards. The tombstones and their designations received the light as did the sets of flowers laid there and on outlying posts along the perimeters of counties where others had tragically passed. Many worlds existed at once within the larger world. There was the world of the squirrel, the ant, the person. Open and loquacious was the world of clouds, cumulus, bragging that they were dragons, wizards, rivers, amulets, talismen, even chairs or donkeys or flora and fauna not known here but metaphysical in origin, in design. Yellow jackets worked in the air by the dozen. Some continent surely was in darkness, slumbering itself, dreaming, - but that notion itself was as if a dream, - in the middle of slew of chapters of dreams and thus forgotten. The fact that another place was without the morning star, well that idea was like the fifth dream of the night- unreachable now. The sun. The sunshine. The light. An incredibly old man once said to another as he watched him sit near about the beginnings of a summit that led to an old country church- well- he didn’t say much other than to call the other one `Sunshine,’ which meant that he was fond of watching the sun. And it went like that- the memory and the present. The sun on grates, pebbles, heads, hands, hair, hats, homes, - the sun, - like a wonderfully dispersed halo that went everywhere. The sun a symbol of the Holy Spirit itself. 

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